


What does Shakespeare know?

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [61]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, Music, Romantic Soulmates, SO MUCH FLUFF, Soulmates, bughead - Freeform, meet cute, pining Jughead, pining betty, pre slash, soul mates, tears and laughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 04:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: Bughead AU where you can hear the songs your soulmate listens to.





	What does Shakespeare know?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by and dedicated to: @chaameau who is insanely talented, seriously, the girl has talent. You should get her out at tumblr. Best artist ever. 
> 
> with a special mention to my girl: @ithoughtyoulikedmereckless who is a wonderful writer, and you should check her out on tumblr and on ao3 too. We may be working on something special together...
> 
> They both love soul mate au's, so I thought I'd add another one to the fandom ;)
> 
> I hope you
> 
> Enjoy

Shakespeare said,  _if music be the food of love, play on_ and in Betty's humble opinion: Shakespeare should get stuffed. 

Music is wonderful. Music is a cathartic relief. Betty loves music. She has an eclectic, but happy taste, and she listens to it all the time. Her alarm wakes her with some Natasha Bedingfield (these words are indeed her own, and she does have a pocket full of sunshine- in the non drug sense) and she goes for her morning jog with a mix of Demi Lovato's  _Confident_ and Fifth Harmony's  _Work From Home_ and other, more beat-driven songs blasting in her ears. When she gets home, panting and slicked with sweat, she sings old Brittney Spears and Disney songs. Mulan and Lion King sound especially brilliant in the acoustics of her shower. Particularly the enchanting: _He lives in you, he lives in me, he watches over, everything we see!_

On her walk to school, she has her playlist on shuffle and walks with a skip in her step, and it's the same on her way home. In her study periods, or just before bed as she's finishing off with some homework, she lets her favourite movie soundtracks take her to a better place, and it's always time for a sing-a-long as far as Betty's concerned. Life would be significantly better as a musical. Troy Bolton had it right. 

But  _love?_ Music has nothing to do with love and even the thought makes her scowl. Just because- just because soulmates happen to be all wrapped up in it doesn't mean anything. Just because you can hear the songs your soulmate listens to when they're listening to it, just because you can hear your soulmate singing in your head, just because true love can be connected through specially designed playlists on spotify, doesn't mean  _anything._

Betty's soulmate is a royal dick and she hates him. 

Because what kind of person just- just stops listening to music? He must still be able to hear her- her alarm, her playlist, her singing in the shower, when she's jogging and humming, he must  _know._ He has to know she's made a playlist to reach out to him, that she's eighteen and she's about to go to college and all she wants is for her stupid soulmate who she hates in her life. But if he does know, he's never  _responded._

He used to listen to music. 

It's definitely a guy. She remembers hearing his voice belting out  _Happy Birthday, Dear Jellybean!_ when she was ten completely out of the blue. It was the first and last time she'd ever heard him properly sing. He was typically a very quiet, under his breath type of singer. It had caught her off-guard and she'd sprinted to her mom to tell her. Sure, she'd heard him listen to music before but this was his  _voice_ and she loved it. She spent the rest of the day singing loudly, hoping she could coax him into something back- but her head had remained silent. 

The music stopped coming altogether when she was fourteen years old. 

But by fourteen, she was developed enough to realise that her soulmate had...weird taste in music. He listened to it  _a lot._ Practically throughout the entire day and Betty had to drown it out in order to focus on class and do her work. Sometimes he'd be listening to music way into the early hours of the morning and she'd groan and try desperately to get some sleep. She'd been annoyed a little, but now she misses it. She prefers hearing him, knowing he's out there somewhere and well enough to listen to music, to the near radio-silence she gets now. Instead of empowering female artists or kick ass beats, her soulmate had enjoyed what seemed to be a weird mix of creepy noir instrumental and sad, angry brooding songs. 

She remembers one song he'd listened to on repeat for about three weeks. It had driven her crazy and though she's never looked it up again, she knows every single word.  _I walk a lonely road, the only road that I have ever known, don't know where it goes, but it's only me and I walk alone._ Betty had rolled her eyes at the time. What a brooding, angsty loner she was destined to be with. In retaliation, she had listened to songs exclusively from Toy Story for the next month. But now...now that the music has stopped, she wonders whether that fourteen year old had needed a little bit of help. 

She wonders if it wasn't so much  _broody loner_ as  _lonely stranger._ It makes her worry her bottom lip and feel tremendously guilty. She wonders if maybe he's chosen to sever their connection because of the fact she hadn't reached out explicitly enough. Maybe the playlists hadn't been enough. Betty knows of couples who had only listened to certain lyrics of certain songs to try and make sentences, or pieced together music to form phrases and locations for a meet up. She had never done any of that. She had always felt she'd rather be more traditional, and not try for a meet up until they were both eighteen. 

That was the old-fashioned way. It gave you the chance to live and love and experience just a little before you were matched up perfectly and completely. 

Now, though, she regrets it. 

There are lots of ways to have the bond severed. Illegally and legally. It's not a particularly dangerous procedure, but it is a rare one. It can only cut off your music to another person, but you'll always hear your soulmates. Wherever he is in the world, he can still hear Betty. She, not her other half, only receives the very mutest snippets of songs, so quiet most days she can't make them out, and hardly ever his voice. After she'd realised it had happened- fourteen years old and weeping into her pillow when she realised it had been two weeks without  _any music_ she'd considered getting the surgery done herself. If he didn't want anything to do with her then- then fine, she didn't want anything to do with him!

Polly had talked her out of it. There are so many risks involved for a surgery like that, and it's very expensive. Betty would much rather go to college. 

Which is where she's going tomorrow. 

She's cleared out her childhood bedroom and she sits on the mattress and looks at the bare, baby pink walls. Somewhere, out there in the world, her soulmate exists. Her age, her perfect match, gone forever out of reach. She's going to be half of love for the rest of her life, but that'll be okay. She's had four years to come to terms with it. On bad days, angry days, she had blasted  _I hate everything about you. Why do I love you?_ so loudly her bedroom walls had shaken and hoped viciously that it made him feel at least a little bit guilty for leaving her alone. But now she's older, she's still sad but there are other people out there, not many, but some, who too have had their bond severed. She's sure she can fall in love with a non-soulmate and be happy. 

Betty's good at being happy. She can make this work. She's strong and ever the optimist. So, she looks around her empty room and sucks in a deep breath. " _Islands in the stream, that is what we are. No one in between. How can we be wrong, sail away with me? To another world? And we rely on each other, from one lover to another. I can't live without you if the love was gone, everything is nothing if you've got no one,"_ tears prick in her eyes, unbidden and she shakes her head. "Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton make it seem easy, but it's not," she adds, knowing he won't be able to hear that bit. But he'll hear the beginning. He'll know that he's ruined their chances of that. 

She and her soulmate will never be two islands in the stream. 

She gets her laptop out suddenly feeling stronger. It's been four years. Her soul mate has made a decision and whatever, she doesn't care. This song is good and he won't ruin music for her. She gets it up on spotify and taps her keyboard till it's playing at full volume and she climbs out of bed, wiping away her tears and choosing to smile instead. Music is music. Music isn't love. She can like music without having to think about the lost connection. So, she closes her eyes and sways and sings and doesn't give a damn to who can hear her, and what they might be thinking. " _Baby I will hurt you never....in love forever. We can ride it together, making love with each other. Islands in the stream! That is what we are! No one in between! How can we be wrong!"_

She's in the middle of dancing with her coat when she hears something in her head- quiet and barely there, in a fond little voice; "Islands in the stream," he mutters, "that is what we are." 

Betty's heart is pounding. The song is still playing in her room, but his voice is gone and she stares at her blank wall; frozen. It's not the first time little slips of his voice have come through since the sever- it's not full proof, after all, it just mutes the sound-, but it's the first time in a while. It's the clearest it's been in a while. 

His voice was deep, and different to the crystal clear recollection she has of him at ten years old. High-pitched and pre-puberty and wishing someone happy birthday. This voice is the voice of a man. It's deep and- to her devastation- utterly attractive. She  _craves_ the chance to hear it again and it isn't fair. Tears come again. It's not fair. He can hear her all the time, but she can't hear him all the time because of his stupid surgery. She wants him- she will  _always_ want him, way deep down. Shaking, she crouches by her laptop and replays the song, craning her ears and searching her mind, and hoping that maybe another slither will creep through. 

"Sail away with me. To another world." It comes, and she clutches at it like a drowning man gasps for air. His voice is beautiful. He is beautiful. She loves him. 

She touches her heart, weeping into her duvet, the carpet digging into her knees as Dolly continues to sing. It's not  _fair._ How come he sounds so happy? So fond? Like this isn't destroying him? How could he have done this to her- to them? 

If music is the food of love, her soulmate is starving her. She can't survive on these scraps. 

Betty hates her soulmate. And she hates Shakespeare.

She drifts into a restless sleep and dreams of her soulmate's voice. 

In the morning, she and her dad make the long drive to college with a car full of treasured belongings and necessities. They listen to music the on way there, and though Betty keeps her ears keen, she doesn't hear anything. Yesterday was probably a blip. "You know, honey," her dad sighs, taking the next exit. "I know that...I know that you're in a unique soul mate situation, but that doesn't mean you can't be happy. It also doesn't mean that he won't some day change his mind and get the surgery reversed. It's impossible to know what the other person is going through when they decide to make a decision like that. You know your mother almost had it done when she was your age." 

Betty watches the scenery roll by. Something by _Jon Bellion_ is playing on the radio now, and the forestry looks like a smudge of green against the window. It looks wet and inviting and Betty wants to rub her face in the leaves and feel the cool, refreshing dampness of nature. "I know, dad," she says, trying to keep her voice light because the last thing she wants is him worrying about her. "I'm not going to get the surgery if that's what you're worried about. And I know I can be happy without him. And if he changes his mind-well, I'll be open to listening to what he has to say." 

It's a perfect response, but her dad knows her better than that. "Honey, you're the strongest person I know. But ever since Archie and Veronica found each other, it's like you're constantly on edge. You keep trying to bury the desire for your soulmate deep inside you, but that won't work."

"I know." She snaps, a little more spitefully than she means to. "I took Biology, dad. I know you can't repress your urge for them." Try, try, try as she might. 

"It's not about overcoming and forgetting the pain, Betty," he murmurs softly, "it's about learning to live with it. I wish there was another way. But I know you can. I know you don't need anyone to make you happy. Soul mates are...they're wonderful, but they're terrible too. That dependency on another person is both a blessing and a curse. I know you're missing out, but you're also gaining something too. Whatever happens, I just want you to know- you're going to have a fantastic life. You're my girl, you know?" 

Betty smiles, and reaches over to squeeze his arm. She turns the radio off and lets the silence fill the car. "Thanks, dad," she whispers. 

 

It's easier said than done, of course. The pain reaches unbearable levels sometimes. She listens to music all the time, she tries to goad her soulmate into singing by looking up angsty, weirdo mysterious loner songs in the hopes that she'll stumble onto something he'll like. She tries to repeat the most irritating songs and jingles she can find. He must be hearing them _full blast._ She then tries to sing the songs she loves the most hoping that the passion in her voice might entice him. She goes to a Shawn Mendes concert with a few girls from her course and spends the whole night lost in the paradise of his voice. 

Her soul mate doesn't make a peep. 

Or maybe he is, and because of the bond sever, she just can't hear it. 

The thought is infuriating. 

Slowly, though, slowly but surely, she learns how to deal with it. She focuses on her Journalism course and she loves it and she can listen to music the way she used to- without obsessing over whether or not her soulmate likes this song. She likes NYU just as much as she thought she would. And she's so proud of herself for making it here. She meets a girl in her building called Toni Topaz, who's the photographer for the University paper and they start working on stories together. She meets a guy called Kevin in the Amateur Dramatics Society and they go out for pizza once a week and Betty skypes Veronica and Archie as often as she can and feels happy. She's started to settle into the routine of her life now. 

She's on the bus heading into class one day, sitting nearest the driver and watching the drizzly grey clouds.  _Lost in Japan_ is playing on her headphones and she bobs her head to it a little, wondering how she's going to handle her presentation today when Laura's pulled another sicky-

"Do you got plans tonight? I'm a couple hundred miles from Japan and I..." whispers in her head. 

Betty jerks her face upwards so rapidly that the elderly woman opposite her startles. She smiles in apology, but her smile is shaky and her fingers are trembling. The voice is so clear. It's almost  _crystal clear._ Still quiet, like he's whispering; shy and sweet, but it's his voice. Intensely clear. Like he's sitting right beside her. She tries to steady her breathing and waits another second- nothing else comes. 

She turns away from the windows, pressing the back of her hand to her cheek and feeling how red and flushed she's become at just the sound of his voice. Ludicrously, she wonders whether maybe he's having the surgery undone. Maybe he's going to try and reach out and connect to her. She lets herself get lost in the daydream of it all even though it's a dangerous thing to do. 

As she looks down at the other passengers, she notices a guy around her age in a crown-knitted beanie leaning against the window. His eyes are closed, and she wonders whether or not he's asleep. He looks ethereal in the white-light of the day, and he's wearing large, over-head headphones with a green band that match his forest green plaid shirt. He's attractive, Betty thinks dimly, surprised with herself. It's not a thought she often has about guys. But he is. With olive skin and toned arms and he's all lean and lanky in that way she likes. He has dark hair and a long curled, black lock waves softly in his forehead. 

She briefly considers going over, before snorting at her own ridiculousness. As if. 

"Can't get you off my mind." Her soul mate whispers, and Betty freezes as the mystery boy in green moves his lips along in perfect sync. 

She stares.

It's not- it can't be. The song drifts towards the end and she keeps staring. It's not- it can't be- it- without giving herself a chance to think about it, she gets her phone out and immediately changes it to one of her favourites. Unusual enough that there's no way he could be listening to it on his headphones and that it can't be a coincidence. 

George Michael starts playing and she watches him desperately. His eyes open, revealing a lovely shamrock green that glitter in the light, and he smiles softly, looking fond and enamoured and- what the fuck? It can't be her soulmate then. Her soulmate would never look so  _happy_ to hear her music. Why would he? Her soulmate's probably wishing she gets the surgery too so he no longer has to hear her. She watches him anyway. She can't hear her soulmate's voice, and the guy she's staring at isn't moving his lips either. Just as she starts to lose hope-

"I'm never gonna dance again, guilty feet have got not rhythm." They both whisper in sync. The voice in her head and the guy in green. 

Betty drops her phone. It clatters to the plasticy floor of the bus and a few people look over before turning away in disinterest. She picks her phone up, sliding off her seat and just staring at him. 

It is him. It's her soulmate. Different emotions all well up inside her and before she knows what she's doing, she's marching over to him. He looks up and offers her a small, if confused smile. He still has those huge headphones on and Betty  _hates_ that she can't hear what he's listening to. That he severed that connection and robbed her of that love. She hates him. She loves him. He's beautiful and she wants him and she despises him with every fibre of his being. George Michael keeps crooning into her ears.  _We could have been so good together, we could have been this dance forever_ he cries, and Betty draws her hand back and slaps her soulmate as hard as she can across the face. 

The sharp sound echoes and the people on the bus gasp collectively as Betty presses the stop button and turns on her heel, tears streaming down her face as she storms off. 

It's bitterly cold outside, and the wind whips at her angrily. She doesn't feel like she can get enough air into her lungs, and the song starts again on repeat; the sexy saxophone introduction mocking her. 

"Hey!" A voice yells, and she turns and her knees buckle because she knows that voice. She's known that voice since she was ten. The guy on the bus runs over to her, a red handprint on his cheek and his headphones now around his neck. "Hey- are you- what was that all about?" He doesn't sound particularly angry, which Betty finds pretty incredible. But she can't stop crying, and his eyes glitter with concern. Which she doesn't want to see. He can't be kind or caring or understanding because he's  _ruined everything._

"We could have been this dance forever!" She screams at him, and he blinks in confusion, before his jaw drops as he recognises her voice. 

Of course he recognises her voice, she thinks. She's only been singing to him nearly her whole life. His eyes go wide and his lips have parted in awe. The wind tosses his hair wildly. "You're..." he shakes his head, before a wide, beautiful smile spreads across his face, and he's leaning in and kissing her right on the mouth. 

Their lips feel  _perfect_ together and Betty leans into him for one, out-of-body moment, everything feels right and the hole deep inside her feels like it can close up and she can be whole and okay and- she pulls back to slap him again. 

He cries out in surprise, head spinning and she's greeted to the sight of his ear.

Or what's  _in_ his ear, more accurately. 

It's an ITC. It's a flesh coloured hearing aid in the cavum concha of his ear, visible but small and- and a hearing aid- and- her mind is whirring, if that's a hearing aid it means- then that means-

He turns his face back slowly, swallowing thickly, but he sees that her eyes are still fixed on his ear. He nods, cheek blooming a very visible red now and Betty's hand burns and she yanks her earphones out- cutting off George Michael- before reaching for him. "Oh god," she chokes out, vision blurry with tears, "I'm so sorry," she cups his other cheek and he smiles down at her. He's quite a bit taller than her, and when he steps closer, she has to crane her neck upwards to look at him. His skin is soft under her hands and- everything's starting to make sense. "I'm so sorry," she says again, hiccuping, "I made a- I made a horrible mistake and- and I'm so  _sorry."_ He's...he's  _deaf._ He never severed the connection at all- and she's- she's hit him and-

He laughs, and his arms wrap around her as she buries her face into his chest in shame. He smells of pine and deodorant and she loves him fiercely. "When I was fourteen," he begins, whispering in her ear and still holding her so tightly it's as if he's never going to let go. Betty hopes he doesn't. She clutches his shirt in her fists and nuzzles into him. Everything feels right with him. "I suffered from an acoustic trauma trying to get my sister out of this coal mine where she was playing. I suffered from severe hearing loss and the doctors told me that though a hearing aid would make up a lot of it- my soulmate- you, you'd never really be able to hear me again. I was..." he shakes his head, shaking in her arms as he kisses the top of her head. It sends tingles shooting through her. "I was devastated. I thought I'd lost you. I didn't...I didn't know what to do. I stopped listening to music. I only wanted to hear what  _you_ were playing, and when you...when you sang those awful songs, where the lyrics..." his voice breaks and Betty starts crying again because she  _remembers_ but she didn't know. She wanted him to feel guilty, but she never- she never wanted to hurt him. She didn't know. "Where you said I'd abandoned you, and that I left you, and that- I wanted to die," he's full on crying now and she pulls back to look up at him. "I thought you wouldn't want me anymore, so I- I never tried reaching out and-" she stares up at him heart-breakingkly. He smiles when he sees her face, and kisses her forehead like he can't help himself. "But sometimes- sometimes you'd play such  _happy_ music and I thought- even if I never get to meet you, at least I can hear your music and your beautiful voice and-"

She tiptoes and kisses him. It's wet and messy and slippery with tears, but suddenly the wind doesn't feel nearly as cold. "I thought- I'm so sorry," she whispers, shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, and keeps repeating it into their kiss. She can never say it enough.

He pulls back, gasping for breath and stroking her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry." He says, "You must've thought I abandoned you, and you must have been so lonely-"

" _You_ must have been so lonely," she sobs, and he laughs a little wetly. He's so wonderful.  _He's_ apologising. She's been so awful, she's been-

"We don't have to be anymore," he murmurs, and her heart skips a beat when she realises that-

holy shit, he's right. 

He pries her fingers from his shirt, and takes them in his hands and holds it over his heart. "I've loved you forever." He vows.

She kisses their intertwined hands and nods earnestly. "I'll always love you." She promises. 

They go for coffee, with slap marks and rimmed red eyes and wet cheeks and twined hands. Betty realises that Jughead's voice is a little quieter than normal, and he has a bit of trouble knowing exactly  _where_ a voice is coming from, and that he wears his big headphones to hide the hearing aids. She knows that he's a hero and that- against all odds- she's done it traditionally just like she planned. She's met her soulmate at the age of eighteen. 

He pays for her drink and blushes when she says she wants to read his manuscript. He says he's going to walk her to all her classes, because they both go to NYU and this was fate. 

"I wish I could travel back in time," she whispers at the end of the evening. They've spent the entire day together. All of their classes forgotten in the face of meeting the other. They went to get coffee, then walked around town for hours, before getting an early dinner and talking until the staff asked them to leave. And now they're outside Betty's student accommodation. "I'd tell the young me not to- not to torment you with music like that. I'd tell her it was all going to be okay, and that her soulmate does love her, he's just- he's just better than she could ever have imagined." 

Jughead leans down to kiss Betty again. He keeps smiling at her like she's the sun and he thinks she's perfect. He's so beautiful, and she doesn't know what she did to deserve him, but he's here and he makes her knees weak. "I wouldn't change anything," he says quietly, after a moments contemplation. "We both- we both had to come to terms with what would happen if we never found the other, and...I think that makes us strong. Makes us even stronger now that we have each other." 

Betty likes that, and giggles when he leans down for another kiss. They haven't been able to stop touching all day. She doubts it'll ever wear off. The things he does to her- "Would you like to come in?" She offers breathlessly, voice hitching when he presses a kiss to the nape of her neck. 

"Yeah, I'd love to," he whispers, giving her a lopsided half-smile and looking equal parts adorable and attractive. "But first," he steps back, before offering out his hand. "I'm Jughead Jones." 

She blinks when she realises she didn't know that. They haven't even introduced each other! She grins, and takes his hand firmly. "Betty Cooper. That's a nasty mark on your cheek. Evil girlfriend?" 

Jughead tips his head back and laughs with his whole body. The sound makes her happy. "She's an angel, really. It was a misunderstanding." 

They stay up all night eating pizza and listening to the Toy Story soundtrack. 

Who'd have guessed? He's a fan. 

Maybe Betty doesn't  _hate_ Shakespeare, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, my lovelies
> 
> And merry Christmas 
> 
> and um definitely feel free to listen to all the songs/artists I mentioned cuz they rock??? 
> 
> MWAH 
> 
> x
> 
> PS I think I might really like to do this but from Jughead's perspective? Anyone into it? Or have any ideas? Lemmie know, down below! (Hey, that rhymed. Guess I'm a writer after all!)


End file.
